A Love Beyond Convention
by HeartRose
Summary: A second chance at life and perhaps love? Will Erik find the happiness so long denied to him? Originally published on  Warning: This will be slash  m/m
1. Chapter 1

Part 1: A young dancer

Paris, nearly the turn of the century, art and bohemian spirit move the country of France towards a new renaissance where artists, dancers and singers perform in every imaginable venue. Opera attendance is at its height and dancers swarm from England, Spain and as far away as the Americas to perform in the magnificent Opera House, The National Academy of Music better known as the Opera Garnier. A young English man wandered the beautiful halls, panic rising in his throat.

"M. Ferriday?" he called. "Wonderful. My first day employed in the Opera and already I am lost."

He saw a ballet rat walking towards him and rushed to speak to her.

"Miss, miss, could you help me,please?" The girl stopped and stared at him, waiting.

"Yes, what do you need?"

He caught his breath, "I am lost, I am supposed to be instructed by a M. Ferriday? Do you know where I could find him?"

Her face cleared and she smiled at him. "Ah, so you are the new dancer. What is your name?"

"Julian Andrews, miss, and yours?"

The girl blushed. "My name is Anna Charles. Now, M. Ferriday is expecting you. Come."

Miss Charles led him through halls so beautiful it could have been Heaven itself. At last they came to a small door. Knocking softly she opened the door. "Monsieur? The boy is here to see you."

A wrinkled hand welcomed him into the dark room. Miss Charles left the way she came, Julian suddenly longing to follow suit.

"Come in boy, don't stand there all day." Julian entered the room. "So, can you dance, boy?"

Julian cleared his throat. "My name, sir, is Julian Andrews. I am twenty-five and I moved here from England to practice dance in the Opera. I studied dance with Madame Andrews, my mother, since I was a child."

Ferriday nodded. "Well, your class will meet in the conservatory every morning Monday through Friday from six am to ten am with a two hour break for dinner. If you are selected for major role in the theater you will move from Madame Jeanette's class to my own. And that is only if you do well enough to advance the line, you understand."

Julian nodded. He knew that being granted employment did not confirm him as star. He would have to earn that acclaim.

Julian turned to leave when Ferriday made a parting remark.

"Keep an eye out for the Ghost, eh boy?"

Ferriday's laughter followed the confused dancer down the hallway. Of what ghost did Ferriday speak?

Julian wandered down the endless hallways, soon becoming lost.

"Oh no, not again. Where am I?"

Just then a voice seemed to float out of the walls,"Take a left."

Julian obeyed, taking a left at the next hallway. "Straight ahead." That voice again, helping, guiding.

Being slightly superstitious Julian made sure to thank the voice for the instructions. No need to irritate a ghost on his first day.

Julian entered on to the stage where Madame Jeanette had assembled her first lesson of the new Season.

"Ah, M. Andrews, glad you could join us. Take your place behind Miss Charles. We will bring with first position stretching."

Hours later Julian traveled towards the men's dorm hoping to settle in before the others arrived. Beneath the silent glided ceiling the crying from inside a nearby room seemed deafening, coming from everywhere at once.

Opening the door slowly he saw a hunched over man, staring into the remains of a long dead fire.

He entered the room slowly, not wanting to startled the weeping man. "Excuse me-" Before he could udder another word the man turned. A mask covered most of his face, but what Julian could see was handsome and well formed.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to disturb you. I was just wondering why you're crying." The man looked wild in his eyes, his clothing was that of a wealthy patron.

The man ignored his question, cocking his head to one side, tears left to dry on his one revealed cheek.

"You are a dancer, boy?" Julian hated to be called boy . He looked about fifteen, he knew that, with his light brown hair and dark blue eyes.

"I have a name, sir, I am Julian Andrews, NOT boy."

The man smiled, his lips curling prettily. "Well, I have a name too. Allow to introduce myself. I am Erik."


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2: Friend of a Phantom

Julian left the room soon after meeting Erik. Turning once more to look at the door he saw the sign saying that the room belonged to the Prima Donna. The Prima Donna? Then why was Erik in there? Unless, Erik must have been waiting to speak with the Prima Donna, La Carlotta.

He vaguely recalled a story of a upstart woman who reigned as the star of the opera for a short time. Now, what was her name? Kathie? Cathleen? No, no it was Christine! Christine Daae, she married that Count De Chancy, or something like that.

Despite his never having listened to her sing from all he heard she was very good. Rumors said the Phantom, the Opera Ghost or O.G had been her vocal tutor, something about pretending to be her Angel of Music. After that O.G was said to have died. So sad, not for Christine but for O.G.

He was knocked out of these thoughts. Literally. A shoe slapped the back of his head. "What the hell?" Julian turned to see the source of the shoe and the other joined it's mate, hitting him in the jaw.

"Who in the hell is throwing their shoes?" A woman stepped out in the hallway. Julian immediately noticed she was bare footed. "So, Madame, these are yours?" She blushed looking away from him.

"Yes, my lift partner never showed to practice our steps and I was angry. Please forgive me." He stared at her a moment before recognizing her as Miss Perrault, from practice.

"Miss Perrault, since it is still early I suppose I could help you with your lift steps. My partner and I have ours finished already." She beamed at him. "Yes, thank you, sir."

They worked for a few hours, till she was sure that she could do the steps. As she was leaving the prop room the young dancer mentioned that there would be double practice starting up the next week and then rehearsals would begin soon after that. Julian inwardly smiled, he enjoyed practicing his trade.

"So, trying to be a saint now are we, young Julian?"

Julian jumped, turning to catch Erik trying to hide a rather smug look and failing miserably.

"Hello. Wait, how did you get in here?"

Erik laughed. "I was friends with O.G back when he was in his prime. He showed me many trapdoors in this place that none of the contractors knew. This was confusing and Julian told him that.

Erik explained how the Opera Ghost actually was a contractor back when the place was first built. He opened the hidden seam in the wall, showing Julian how it led to an abandoned dressing room where one could sneak in and out with ease. 

Erik looked at Julian closely, watching his eyes light up with interest at the idea of an Opera filled with hidden traps and dark secrets. Ever since Nadir's death over a year ago Erik had found himself extremely lonely and longing for a companion. Dare he even say, a friend?

"I actually hoped to invite you for supper this evening. That is if you don't have other plans."

Julian blushed so prettily that Erik was for a moment taken back. He'd never considered the idea before that anyone other then a woman could be beautiful. But Julian fit the description perfectly. 

"I would be honored to join you. So long as you promise not to kill me and bake me in a pie."

Erik couldn't control the look of pure shock on his face followed swiftly by laughter at seeing Julian's smile. How long had it been since he laughed so freely?

"Why, Julian, I'm inviting you because because you're English! I love to entertain the English, always good to fill you up with good food. You know, that stuff English cooks don't know how to make. Here, my card."

He handed Julian a card with his address and name written on it.

"I would advise a cab, don't want you getting lost again like this morning."

And still laughing Erik left the room, leaving Julian slightly confused and more then a little interested in this new mysterious friend. 


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3: Friends?

He arrived at the address at eight-o-clock on the dot. Erik answered the door in full evening dress, his dark hair and light coloring a perfect set off for his green eyes and green caveat .

"Hello, hmm I seem to have forgotten how punctual the English are. Well, never mind that come in."

Julian entered the foyer, hanging his cloak and wiping his boots before entering the living area. Surprising it looked lifeless and unlived in. Erik watched Julian's appraisal of the room and smiled sadly.

"My work often keeps me far from home. My house has suffered for it as you can see."

Julian nodded. They took their seats in the parlor and Erik served the tea.

"So, what do you do for a living, Erik? I mean, other than scaring dancers in prop rooms."

Erik laughed again, he had a nice laugh, a rich baritone.

"I am a composer by trade, but before I moved back to Paris I did many things. Many things..."

He trailed off and looked so sad. Julian blushed, eying a statue of a woman lying naked. She was cast in pure white marble with every detail carefully craved with great loving care.

"Do you make that?" Erik looked up to where he pointed. "Oh, that. Yes, a long time ago." He seemed unable to speak of that either.

"Well, Erik I do not know what to talk about and since it seemed that you invited me over for no reason at all I shall be going."

"I didn't invite you over here to discuss naked women in art."

Julian turned towards the wine cabinet. "May I?"

Erik nodded and Julian poured the two drinks. 

"Sorry, Julian, I did invite you over here for a reason. I just, oh never mind, it's nothing important."

"Well, I understand, I suppose. We all have things we do not wish to discuss." Erik looked at him and smiled again.

"So sorry about that. Now, I hope you like veal. I am making veal baked with spinach puffs."

Julian had never tasted veal, telling Erik,who then preceded to choke on his drink.

"Erik, are you alright?"

Julian rushed to his feet and pounded on Erik's back.

"I'm alright, I'm alright. Thank you."

The mask still covered half his face. He wanted to ask about it but seeing Erik's earlier reactions to prying in his past Julian decided against it.

"Julian, I think you will like the meal. My culinary skills are better than my manners I must say."

"Erik, why did you invite me over?" Erik paused thinking. "Come into the kitchen. I need to finish the spinach puffs."

Following him into the cooking area Julian saw glimpses of a bathroom, a dining area and the barest hint of a bedroom. 

They entered a beautiful kitchen, spacious enough for the most nervous of cooks.

"Erik, your house, it's beautiful, I had never seen a house like this before." He turned back to me, putting the finishing touches on the puffs. "Yes, it suits my needs. Tell me,Julian, why did you move here?"

"I'll tell you Erik, after you tell me why you invited me for dinner." He laughed again. "Well, I saw you helping that woman today and my first thought was that there are still people in the world. And I wanted to get to get to know you. Because I had ceased to believe such goodness could exist."

They had dinner that evening and every evening after that to discuss news of the opera. After about a week they moved on to more open topics but both were careful not to pry.

The following weeks seemed to pass in the blink of an eye with practice, work, each night ending with a delicious dinner that Erik would carefully prepare for them. Before Julian realized it the next evening was the Gala for the season's premiere of Aidi.

They sat at dinner that night, he and Erik.

"You do know that the Gala is tomorrow, don't you?"

He nodded, his mask gleaming in the light. "I won't be able to come for dinner tomorrow. This time, I'd like dinner to be my treat. Before the Gala there is a dinner for the cast. Would you like to join me?"

He sat for a moment. Julian waited. He wanted him there, Erik was the only friend he had in this strange, new country.

"Yes, Julian, I'll be there. Have you no family in this country?" Julian shook his head no.

"My mother died soon after I turned thirteen. I worked for my passage to France in sweat shops. I grew strong, finally earning enough when I turn twenty. I have been a dancer since I was little. My mother taught me, she was beautiful. I loved her so."

Erik was silent and turned his face so Julian could wipe away his tears. "How did she die?"

"Cancer. She didn't suffer, at least, she never complained. We played up to the day she died." 

Erik walked over to his chair and in the most unusual manner, hugged him.

"I'll be your family, Julian. For you see I have no one either. I will see you tomorrow night then."

Erik walked Julian to the door and bid him goodnight. Julian walked off happier then he had been in years. And for once, he didn't question why.


End file.
